


five time Blaine almost cheated but didn't

by villiageidiot



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-24
Updated: 2013-03-24
Packaged: 2017-12-06 08:21:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/733541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/villiageidiot/pseuds/villiageidiot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Blaine almost cheated.  (But not THAT kind of cheating.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	five time Blaine almost cheated but didn't

**freshman year. _Kurt's apartment, New York._**

So Kurt has plans for the two of them. The sexy kind of plans.

They're alone in the apartment and Kurt has _plans._

Blaine, however, has an exam in fifteen hours that he feels wholly unprepared for.

“Here,” Kurt says, dropping a folder onto the coffee table.

Blaine looks up, startled.

“I took that class last year,” Kurt says. “My exams are in there. You can just look them over.”

Blaine's mouth drops open a little and he can't help but to feel a little scandalized. “Kurt, are you _serious_? That's _cheating_ , oh my god.”

Kurt looks unimpressed. “Blaine, we're here alone. Are you not getting that? Do you know the next time we'll get this opportunity? Because ' _never_ ' is the answer.”

“Twenty minutes,” Blaine pleads. “Just twenty minutes. I need to read the last chapter -- or skim it! I'll just skim it! And then I need to go over my study guide one last time.”

Kurt just stares at him and says nothing. After a few moments, he turns to head towards their room and takes off his undershirt as he walks away.

“Fifteen!” Blaine calls out after him, voice a little desperate. He eyes Kurt's folder where it sits only a few inches away. “Fifteen, okay?”

(It only takes him twelve. He falls over himself trying to get to their bedroom as fast as humanly possible leaving Kurt's folder still on the table, untouched.)

: : :

**sophomore year. _Anderson kitchen, Westerville._**

Kurt starts one of those juice cleanses.

This, of course, means that Blaine also must start a juice cleanse. He's gotten much better at it over the years but still, Blaine's never been too good at saying _no_ to Kurt.

Somehow, the cleanse is even harder than he thought it'd be. On the third day, after they drive home to visit their families for a long weekend, Blaine sits in his mom's kitchen and stares at a granola bar. After a few moments, he takes the granola bar into his hands and stares at it, pretends he can taste it, pretends he can feel himself chewing.

There is no chewing on a juice cleanse. Blaine misses chewing.

Kurt calls him right then _thank god_ , just as he's about to lose all resolve.

“I don't know why I ever thought this was a good idea,” Kurt groans as soon as Blaine answers.

“Yeah?” Blaine perks up. Maybe Kurt will call the whole thing off.

“This is impossible.”

“Right. Totally,” Blaine says, smiling.

Kurt lets out a long sigh. “Which is why it'll be worth it when it's all over, right?”

Blaine's face falls. “Right. Totally.”

“Carole made this angel food cake and it's staring at me, Blaine. Every time I walk in that kitchen, it's watching me.”

Blaine stares at the granola bar in his hands and nods in understanding. The granola bar is staring back, he just knows it. “I know what you mean.”

He unwraps the granola bar quietly. It has _chocolate_ in it. And _pretzels_. And chocolate _covered_ pretzels. How is he supposed to resist that? He's only human.

Kurt sighs again.

“Maybe -- maybe have one bite of cake?” Blaine suggests. “One bite won't hurt.”

Kurt scoffs. “That's cheating, Blaine. And I'd have to start all over again.”

“Right,” Blaine says, barely paying attention. For the first time in his life, he's anxious to get off the phone with Kurt. He _wants_ to get off the phone with Kurt. Because he's eating the damn granola bar. It's been decided.

The line is quiet for a minute.

“Thank you,” Kurt says quietly. “I might not have said it yet but thank you.”

Blaine tears his eyes from the granola bar. “Oh,” he says. “You're welcome?”

“This is so much easier knowing that you're doing it with me. You... make things easier.”

Blaine blinks. “Oh,” he says again.

(He throws the granola bar away about twenty seconds later, unwrapped and uneaten. And he never mentions it to Kurt. _Ever._ )

: : :

**junior year. _Blaine's kitchen, New York._**

Kurt's gone for three days, coerced into some impromptu roadtrip with Rachel to Atlantic City. He sends Blaine text messages throughout the weekend and sounds beyond miserable. Blaine spends the weekend trying to think of something to do to cheer him up when he gets back.

For some reason, he comes up with the idea of greeting Kurt with a home cooked meal. It sounds awesome in theory, sure, aside from the fact that Blaine has no idea how to cook.

“So … is the pudding supposed to have chunks in it?” he asks his mom over the phone. He stirs the pudding/pineapple mixture around a bit more.

“What?” she sighs. “No. You were supposed to blend the cream cheese before you added the pineapple.”

“I did,” he says defensively. “I mean, I thought I did, anyway.”

She's quiet.

“So is there anything I can do about it now?” he asks. “Or should I start over?”

“What time is Kurt supposed to be back?” she says. “You might not have time.”

“Oh, not until tomorrow,” he answers. “This was just a test run.”

“Right,” his mom says slowly.

“I have to start on the stew, too,” Blaine tells her. “I might call you later if I have any problems.”

She sighs again. “A stew? You're making him a stew?”

“It's sort of a jambalaya thing he saw a few weeks ago on one of those cooking reality shows, which, by the way, are _totally_ staged, Mom. But he thought it looked --”

“Jambalaya?” she asks, voice skeptical. “Sweetie, maybe you should start with something a little less … ambitious.”

He hesitates. “Kurt really liked that idea, though.”

She pauses. “Okay, fine,” she says eventually. “Here's what you do. Go down to that market a few streets over. The one we went to the last time I visited.”

“Okay,” he replies, wary.

“They have all kinds of prepared food. You can buy the seasoned rice and the vegetables. They have cooked shrimp so you won't have to do that -- oh, and sausage. They probably sell the smoked sausage there, too. All you'd have to do is mix everything --”

“No,” he interrupts sounding offended. “That's cheating, Mom. I'm not buying a bunch of store stuff and mixing it together and taking credit for it.”

She's quiet. “I'll look for an easy recipe, then,” she tells him, resigned. “I'll find the most basic one I can and email it.”

Blaine gives her a smile, even though she can't see it, and says, “Thanks, Mom.”

(It's awesome, by the way. Not the stew/jambalaya thing, that's mediocre at best. But Kurt's indulgent smile when he walks into the apartment and his pleased look as he eats the mediocre stew/jambalaya mixture? _That's_ awesome.)

: : :

**senior year. _Burt's basement, Lima._**

Kurt isn't all that great at Euchre -- or any card games in general, for that matter -- but right now, he is totally kicking Blaine's ass. Kurt and his dad play well together, they're good partners, but Blaine's partner? _Is awful._ After they lose their third straight game, Blaine heads up to the kitchen to grab a water bottle. Finn follows him upstairs.

“I thought you were good at this game,” Blaine says irritably.

“I _am_ ,” Finn argues. “You're just not picking up on my cues.”

“Your what?” Blaine asks, giving him a frustrated sigh.

“My cues,” Finn repeats. “I'm trying to help you win.”

Blaine stares at him. “Yeah, that's the idea of a partner. They help you win, Finn.”

“No I mean help _you_ win. I know you two have some dumb bet and I'm trying to help you.”

Blaine pauses and eyes him carefully. “How do you know there's a bet?”

He shrugs. “Kurt's walls are pretty thin. I heard you two on the phone last night.”

Blaine's eyes widen and he desperately tries to remember any of their phone conversations since they've been back for Thanksgiving, if they've said anything … _inappropriate._ Because god, if Finn was listening -- ugh. Thankfully, though, he comes up with nothing.

“Something about the OSU game, right? If he wins, you have to bail on our OSU/Michigan party?”

“Something like that,” Blaine answers. “But --”

“Okay, so here are my signals,” Finn interrupts. “When I scratch my head, call spades. When I cough, call hearts. Clubs, I'll yawn. For diamonds -- what should we do for diamonds?”

Blaine stares at him, speechless. “We're not -- god, Finn, we're not _cheating_. I'm not playing cards against my boyfriend's dad and _cheating_.”

Finn stares back. “Dude, he loves football. He'll totally understand.”

“That I sabotaged a friendly card game?” he says, eyebrows raised. “I doubt it.”

They watch each other, standing in the middle of the kitchen, for a few more moments.

“Suit yourself,” Finn says with a shrug. “I'm not the one that's missing the best football game of the entire _year,_ Blaine.”

They head back downstairs and play another few hands. He pointedly ignores all of Finn's helpful hints, not like he could remember what they were anyways. It takes a lot of restraint, though, because if Blaine wins this game, Kurt's agreed to sing a minimum of five karaoke duets, all songs of Blaine's choosing. Blaine's been waiting a long time to get Kurt up on a stage to belt out _I Got You Babe_ alongside him and this is his perfect opportunity.

(But they lose -- and pretty fantastically at that. He doesn't have to bail on the OSU party, though, because Kurt tells him he switched their theater tickets for a matinee showing the following weekend. Better yet, Kurt compromises and approves three of Blaine's karaoke song candidates.)

: : :

**sometime after college. _Blaine's bathroom, New York._**

Kurt is late. Kurt is _always_ late for cocktail parties.

Blaine stares at him from the bedroom doorway as Kurt starts just the first step of his intricate face washing routine. “We'll be late,” Blaine tells him. “ _Again_.”

“We won't,” Kurt argues, giving him a dismissive wave. “I'm almost done.”

“You just _started_ , Kurt,” he says, rolling his eyes. “I'm pretty familiar with the routine by now.”

Kurt ignores him.

“We can't keep being fashionably late to these, Kurt. People will think we're weird.”

Kurt glares at him through the mirror. “You haven't even _showered_ , Blaine. I'll be done long before you're ready.”

Blaine blinks. “You're not serious.”

Kurt doesn't say anything in response.

“I'll be showered and ready to go with time to _spare_ ,” Blaine continues.

Kurt scoffs.

Blaine watches him for a few moments. “Okay, fine,” he says. “I'll prove it.”

As he heads to the bathroom, he realizes how important this moment is. This could be it, this could be the one argument he wins that he can remind Kurt of _forever_. It will be a reference point. It will be Blaine's shining moment. Any time from now until _ever_ , Kurt won't have a leg to stand on if he tries to defend his sense of punctuality (or lack thereof).

There is a lot riding on this shower.

Blaine closes the door behind him and then stares at the shower to consider his options. He doesn't actually _have_ to take a shower. He can just run the water, stick his head under the showerhead to rinse away the remnants of yesterday's hair gel, and put on some deodorant.

It could work. It probably _would_ work. He spends a few more minutes thinking it over, aware that he's wasting valuable time. After a moment of hesitation, he decides against it. If he wins this fight, he wants it to be fair and square.

That being said, it's not a _long_ shower. He's quick and to the point, washing everything that needs to be washed but not like, whipping out the loofah or letting the conditioner sit in his hair for a few minutes. He showers just long enough for it not to be considered cheating. He dries quickly, uses a little less gel than normal, skips the Q-Tips, and walks briskly back to their bedroom.

Kurt is still sitting in front of the mirror in his undershirt, barely finished styling his hair.

Blaine grins at him and watches Kurt's eyes through the mirror. “Ta da.”

Kurt rolls his eyes and says nothing.

(Sadly, it doesn't end up being a shining moment for Blaine. Kurt calls it a fluke and renders the entire test null and void.)

: : :

Hindsight is twenty-twenty and when it involves Kurt, Blaine's done making bad decisions.


End file.
